


Of The Same Cut

by providentialeyes



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Adrenaline, Age Difference, Biting, Coming In Pants, Hand Jobs, Kinda, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Pre-Canon, Re-upload, Rough Kissing, Wall Sex, dutch is like 20 and hoseas like 30 idgad what rstar says they're lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25949359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/providentialeyes/pseuds/providentialeyes
Summary: Hosea laughs and the brief flash of pity in his eyes takes the confidence right out of Dutch.Reaches dirty claws into his gut and strips it from him.
Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	Of The Same Cut

**Author's Note:**

> YOUNG VANDERMATTHEWSSSSSSSSS ugh i should write more like this pleading pleading pleading

"Move, Dutch!” Hosea pushes at the younger man’s back as they race down the streets of some podunk town. 

They’d planned the heist perfectly, catching the caravan of noble folk by complete surprise. 

Too bad the law caught them by surprise in return, having been close enough to hear the commotion at the edge of town. 

Instead of escaping into the woods they were forced further into town, dodging riders and carriages as their feet pounded the packed, red dirt. 

“I’m _going_ , Matthews, good _grief_ ,” Dutch grumbles and skids around a corner, slipping through a gate with wide-spread balusters. 

He rounds a corner and realizes they’re in the backyard of some house. 

The chorus of yelling and out-of-breath lawmen passing their hiding spot and going further into the town pulls a smirk from Dutch’s lips. 

Hosea rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh. 

Dutch grapples an arm over Hosea’s shoulders and wags the bag of goodies between them. 

The jingle of metal on metal lifts his soul. 

“Ugh,” Hosea groans, but he’s smiling, “Remind me why we didn’t bring horses?” 

“Liabilities, Hosea, _liabilities_.” 

“Sure,” Hosea drawls then snatches the bag, peering inside. 

Dutch peers with him into the black canvas. 

Hosea rummages through necklaces, rings, and coins, pulls out a simple gold cross and shoves the bag into Dutch’s hands while he fiddles with the clasp, gets it around his neck. 

“The hell are you doing?” The younger man asks, eyes flicking between the necklace and Hosea’s eyes. 

“Souvenirs, Dutch, _Souvenirs_ ,” Hosea mocks and gestures for Dutch to reach in and do the same. 

Dutch takes longer, leans back against the brick while he pulls out various pieces, hemming and hawing over each. 

“Oh for-,” Hosea grunts and reaches into the bag, takes only a few seconds to pull out a mess of chain that Dutch initially mistakes for tangled necklaces. 

“What is that?” Dutch asks. 

“Clueless man,” Hosea mutters and jabs at Dutch’s shoulders until Dutch is standing with his back flush to the wall. 

“Seriously, Hosea?” 

Hosea clucks his tongue and straightens out Dutch’s waistcoat. 

Dutch goes very quiet, watching Hosea’s hands through heavy-lidded, curious eyes. 

Hosea hadn’t been particularly touchy since they met, often Dutch was the one who initiated contact, even a simple pat on the shoulder. 

This wasn’t that. 

Hosea was focused, in his element with the waistcoat chain, a double Albert, one side held a pocket watch, the other a small metal slip box, perfect for matches. 

He affixed it to Dutch’s waistcoat, placing the end pieces in their respective pockets, letting the locket in the middle dangle at Dutch’s bellybutton. 

“There!” Hosea smooths his hands down the fabric, letting everything settle in the wake of his touch, “I’ll make a _gentleman_ of you yet.” 

Dutch quirks his mouth to the side, plays with the chains, one lazy finger tangling in them. 

Hosea clucks and bats his hand away, re-laying the metal. 

Dutch reaches up and hooks a finger behind the chain at the cross pendant instead. 

“I think,” The younger man pouts, “I like _yours_ better.”

He watches Hosea’s adam's apple bob, feels it against the backs on his knuckles, tilts his head and smiles up at Hosea, suddenly coy. 

“Too bad,” Hosea nearly growls, “ _I_ like _mine_ better.” 

“Pity…” Dutch pouts, “Don’t think we could strike a deal?” 

Hosea’s gaze is so heated and fully focused on Dutch that the younger man feels himself melting.

He keeps toying with the cross. 

“Come on, Hosea, let’s _bargain_ ,” Dutch coos and sees the moment Hosea’s carefully curated restraint and propriety fail. 

Hosea shoves him bodily against the bricks, at the same time yanking him closer by the chains, crashing their mouths together, teeth and unresolved desires guiding the kiss into darker corners. 

Hosea kisses dirty. 

Puts his all into pulling little whimpers and moans from Dutch. 

Pulls back, lets Dutch chase after him with parted lips and wild eyes. 

And when Dutch thinks the man is cooling off, the rougher edges smoothing? 

He just ramps up all over again, his hands grappling all over Dutch’s body, grabbing the backs of his thighs and lifting him up, trapping him between Hosea’s hips and the wall. 

Dutch grins into the kisses, subtly leading from the shadows, letting out sounds of pleasure when Hosea does something he particularly likes. 

Hosea is a man of knowledge, though, and an _awful_ quick study. 

He catches onto Dutch’s games when he glances up to see the younger man watching him, amused.

It flares a possessive streak he’d long stomped out, a power-hungry beast in his gut that drives a fiery determination through him. 

Hosea growls, once, and means it. 

Dutch quirks a brow, challenging. 

It’s all the taunting Hosea can take, evidently, as the older goes for the throat. 

Bites hard into the meat of Dutch’s neck, hears the surprised gasp, gnaws and digs his teeth in lightly before pulling back. 

“What’s your bargain, van der Linde?” 

“First…” Dutch wriggles and tips up his chin defiantly, “Whoever gets off first? _Loses_.” 

Hosea laughs and the brief flash of pity in his eyes takes the confidence right out of Dutch. 

Reaches dirty claws into his gut and strips it from him. 

He damns himself as Hosea closes in, shifts their position to get one hand around the bulge of his cock through his trousers. 

Dutch nearly concusses himself when his head flies back, hitting the wall, his left hand clenches around the cross while his right digs nails into Hosea’s shoulder. 

Hopes he leaves marks, regardless of the shirt in his way. 

“Fuck,” Dutch spits through clenched teeth, arching his neck to give a bigger canvas for the older man to bruise, grits his teeth against desperate whines while lean fingers roughly toys with his length. 

He tries to keep his breathing even and laughs in delight when Hosea’s other hand shoves down the back of his pants to grab his ass. 

It spurs Hosea on. 

They’re two of the same cut, too easy to goad, too stubborn to relent. 

Hosea roughly drags a finger over Dutch’s rim while using the heel of his palm to smooth up Dutch’s cock. 

It does him in. 

He curls into Hosea, crying out softly, not quite certain what he says, _if_ he manages to say anything. 

“You _lose_ ,” Hosea says roughly, and sets Dutch down. 

“Oh, _honey_ ,” Dutch tries to coo through his labored breaths, “I was just sick of the tension.” 


End file.
